LANSING, Mich. — Fifteen years working as an emergency room nurse has convinced Kim Bogan that the only way to fix the American healthcare system is to tear it down and start over.

Her patients arriving for triage are sicker than ever. They can’t afford many of the prescriptions they get in the ER. And sometimes when patients die, she wonders if she could have saved them had she not been caring for five or six other people at once.

That’s why she spent the past year shuttling between 12-hour shifts at this city’s Sparrow Hospital and campaigning for Abdul El-Sayed, the Democrat who made “Medicare for All” a signature issue in his congressional campaign and is now a senator-elect.

But she realizes that just because progressive candidates successfully campaigned on some form of the policy in states such as Texas, Iowa, Maine, and Michigan, it doesn’t mean Medicare for All will be an easy sell. “Nobody expected that,” Bogan said.

Medicare for All typically refers to a government health program that would guarantee Americans coverage by replacing most or all private insurance. Critics are already pointing out that, even in a blue wave as massive as the 2026 midterms, the most vocal Medicare for All champions generally won by smaller margins than more moderate Democrats.

“Whatever else people voted for in this midterm election — anger about inflation, anger about corruption, anger about the Iran war — they by and large didn’t vote to have the government take over health insurance,” said Jonathan Oberlander, a professor and healthcare reform expert at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill.

Still, supporters of universal healthcare see this moment as a once-in-a-generation opportunity because Americans are buckling under the weight of healthcare costs and are hungry for change. Several states, including Oregon, are already exploring what it would take to set up single-payer systems.

The affordability crisis “dominated this election, and Medicare for All speaks to that,” Oberlander said. Medicare for All supporters expect the policy agenda will gain major momentum heading into the 2028 Democratic presidential primaries, he said.

But more moderate Democrats may see the idea’s growing popularity as a threat to gains they made in states such as Iowa, Kansas, and South Carolina. “If Democrats want to hold those seats, which were very difficult to win, they’re probably not interested in passing Medicare for All,” Oberlander said. “That’s a huge political risk in red-leaning states. So just because Democrats have a majority doesn’t mean it’s a majority for Medicare for All.”

Previous Medicare for All proposals would have required getting millions of people to willingly give up their existing coverage, fueling unprecedented opposition from the healthcare industry, said Michael Cannon, a healthcare economist at the libertarian Cato Institute and a Medicare for All opponent.

“If Medicare for All actually had the price levels that Bernie Sanders and Abdul El-Sayed envision, the industry would tear it to shreds,” he said.

And even as voters say they support Medicare for All in greater numbers than in nearly a decade, support falters when they’re presented with common arguments against it — like it could lead to higher taxes or delays in treatment — according to a recent KFF poll.

Jaime Bardenhagen said she feels a little guilty about the idea of getting her healthcare coverage from the government. A former nurse in rural Leelanau County in northern Michigan, Bardenhagen has Parkinson’s and sialidosis, a rare genetic disease that can cause seizures.

Yet she “feels bad” about qualifying for disability benefits next year. Such programs were something she “didn’t believe in” while growing up on a farm, she said. You were supposed to work for what you needed, she said, not rely on government support. “And I did work as hard as I could, for as long as I could.”

But like millions of Americans, Bardenhagen and her husband saw their health insurance costs skyrocket this year, after enhanced Affordable Care Act subsidies expired.

Their monthly premiums went from $700 to $1,300, with a deductible of $7,500. They started putting off medical tests her doctor wanted, she said. “We couldn’t afford that,” she said.

Her husband voted for Donald Trump in 2016, Bardenhagen said. This time, he stayed home. Bardenhagen, a Democrat, also considered sitting out the midterms. “I just don’t trust either party anymore,” she said.

Despite those misgivings, she says she supports Medicare for All. Her years as a nurse left her disillusioned with the current healthcare system, she said.

She felt the insurance companies, not doctors, were calling the shots, determining which prescriptions and procedures patients could receive. Wouldn’t it be fairer, she figured, if “good people” in government were making those calls? “So, absolutely, the government should take it over.”

That takeover is Cannon’s worst-case scenario. The libertarian economist said giving the federal government greater control over the healthcare system would only backfire. Patients would be left “in even more vulnerable positions, because they would be relying for their access to healthcare on government spending that is just not sustainable.”

Medicare for All supporters are naive to think the government could negotiate lower drug and healthcare prices by replacing private plans with a public one, he said. “Everyone knows that the industry is going to end up running the show, and that has been the case since they passed Medicare,” Cannon said.

For Bardenhagen, the message she wants Democrats to take from the midterms is simple: “Do something,” the former nurse said.

“With the election results, both parties are going to be under pressure to come up with solutions to address the current affordability crisis in healthcare,” said Sara Collins, a senior scholar at the Commonwealth Fund, a private foundation that supports healthcare research.

That could mean smaller, but still significant, bipartisan deals that might have seemed unthinkable before the midterms: things such as reinstating the enhanced Affordable Care Act subsidies that expired at the end of last year, or other measures with broad support, such as curbing insurance companies’ use of prior authorizations, which requires patients to get insurers’ approval before proceeding with a covered treatment.

“That’s probably the lowest-hanging fruit for them, I’d think,” said Patricia Votava, a political strategist based in Sullivan’s Island, South Carolina.

The pressure for healthcare reform is likely to grow, too, with Affordable Care Act premiums set to rise by double digits again next year; employers passing on more of their growing insurance premium costs to workers; and massive cuts to Medicaid looming, which are projected to leave 7.5 million more people uninsured by 2034.

On the whole, the midterm results could push Democrats’ healthcare agenda further left, Oberlander said. Some Democrats could support a public option, a government-backed health plan people could opt into. Others in the party could coalesce around a version of Medicare for All that doesn’t fully replace private insurance but serves as “guaranteed baseline government health insurance,” as El-Sayed described his current plan in the campaign.

“If you like your insurance from your employer or from your union, that can still be there for you,” he said.

Whatever they opt for, Democrats shouldn’t expect voters to be willing to wait patiently for years of gradual change, Oberlander said. “If the window opens, you better jump right through.”

South Carolina correspondent Lauren Sausser contributed to this report.

This article first appeared on KFF Health News and is republished here under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Greg Herbruck knew 6.5 million of his birds needed to die, and fast.

But the CEO of Herbruck’s Poultry Ranch wasn’t sure how the family egg producer (one of the largest in the U.S., in business for over three generations) was going to get through it, financially or emotionally. One staffer broke down in Herbruck’s office in tears.

“The mental toll on our team of dealing with that many dead chickens is just, I mean, you can’t imagine it,” Herbruck said. “I didn’t sleep. Our team didn’t sleep.”

The stress of watching tens of thousands of sick birds die of avian flu each day, while millions of others waited to be euthanized, kept everyone awake.

In April 2024, as his first hens tested positive for the highly pathogenic avian influenza H5N1 virus, Herbruck turned to the tried-and-true U.S. Department of Agriculture playbook, the “stamping-out” strategy that helped end the 2014-15 bird flu outbreak, which was the largest in the U.S. until now.

Within 24 to 48 hours of the first detection of the virus, state and federal animal health officials work with farms to cull infected flocks to reduce the risk of transmission. That’s followed by extensive disinfection and months of surveillance and testing to make sure the virus isn’t still lurking somewhere on-site.

Since then, egg farms have had to invest millions of dollars into biosecurity. For instance, employees shower in and shower out, before they start working and after their shifts end, to prevent spreading any virus. But their efforts have not been enough to contain the outbreak that started three years ago.

This time, the risk to human health is only growing, experts say. Sixty-six of the 67 total human cases in the United States have been just since March, including the nation’s first human death, reported last month.

“The last six months have accelerated my concern, which was already high,” said Nahid Bhadelia, an infectious diseases physician and the founding director of Boston University’s Center on Emerging Infectious Diseases.

Controlling this virus has become more challenging, precisely because it’s so entrenched in the global environment, spilling into mammals such as dairy cows, and affecting roughly 150 million birds in commercial and backyard flocks in the U.S.

Because laying hens are so susceptible to the H5N1 virus, which can wipe out entire flocks within days of the first infection, egg producers have been on the front lines in the fight against various bird flu strains for years. But this moment feels different. Egg producers and the American Egg Board, an industry group, are begging for a new prevention strategy.

Many infectious disease experts agree that the risks to human health of continuing current protocols are unsustainable, because of the strain of bird flu driving this outbreak.

“The one we’re battling today is unique,” said David Swayne, former director of the Southeast Poultry Research Laboratory at the USDA’s Agricultural Research Service and a leading national expert in avian influenza.

“It’s not saying for sure there’s gonna be a pandemic” of H5N1, Swayne said, “but it’s saying the more human infections, the spreading into multiple mammal species is concerning.”

For Herbruck, it feels like war. Ten months after Herbruck’s Poultry Ranch was hit, the company is still rebuilding its flocks and rehired most of the 400 workers it laid off.

Still, he and his counterparts in the industry live in fear, watching other farms get hit two, even three times in the past few years.

“I call this virus a terrorist,” he said. “And we are in a battle and losing, at the moment.”

When Biosecurity Isn’t Working … or Just Isn’t Happening

So far, none of the 23 people who contracted the disease from commercial poultry have experienced severe cases, but the risks are still very real. The first human death was a Louisiana patient who had contact with both wild birds and backyard poultry. The person was over age 65 and reportedly had underlying medical conditions.

And the official message to both backyard farm enthusiasts and mega-farms has been broadly the same: Biosecurity is your best weapon against the spread of disease.

But there’s a range of opinions among backyard flock owners about how seriously to take bird flu, said Katie Ockert, a Michigan State University Extension educator who specializes in biosecurity communications.

Skeptics think that “we’re making a mountain out of a molehill,” Ockert said, or that “the media is maybe blowing it out of proportion.” This means there are two types of backyard poultry enthusiasts, Ockert said: those doing great biosecurity, and those who aren’t even trying.

“I see both,” she said. “I don’t feel like there’s really any middle ground there for people.”

And the challenges of biosecurity are completely different for backyard coops than massive commercial barns: How are hobbyists with limited time and budgets supposed to create impenetrable fortresses for their flocks, when any standing water or trees on the property could draw wild birds carrying the virus?

Rosemary Reams, an 82-year-old retired educator in Ionia, Michigan, grew up farming and has been helping the local 4-H poultry program for years, teaching kids how to raise poultry. Now, with the bird flu outbreak, “I just don’t let people go out to my barn,” she said.

Reams even swapped real birds with fake ones for kids to use while being assessed by judges at recent 4-H competitions, she said.

“We made changes to the fair last year, which I got questioned about a lot. And I said, ‘No, I gotta think about the safety of the kids.’”

Reams was shocked by the news of the death of the Louisiana backyard flock owner. She even has questioned whether she should continue to keep her own flock of 20 to 30 chickens and a pair of turkeys.

“But I love ’em. At my age, I need to be doing it. I need to be outside,” Reams said. “That’s what life is about.” She said she’ll do her best to protect herself and her 4-H kids from bird flu.

Even “the best biosecurity in the world” hasn’t been enough to save large commercial farms from infection, said Emily Metz, president and CEO of the American Egg Board.

The egg industry thought it learned how to outsmart this virus after the 2014-15 outbreak. Back then, “we were spreading it amongst ourselves between egg farms, with people, with trucks,” Metz said. So egg producers went into lockdown, she said, developing intensive biosecurity measures to try to block the routes of transmission from wild birds or other farms.

Metz said the measures egg producers are taking now are extensive.

“They have invested hundreds of millions of dollars in improvements, everything from truck washing stations — which is washing every truck from the FedEx man to the feed truck — and everything in between: busing in workers so that there’s less foot traffic, laser light systems to prevent waterfowl from landing.”

Lateral spread, when the virus is transmitted from farm to farm, has dropped dramatically, down from 70% of cases in the last outbreak to just 15% as of April 2023, according to the USDA.

And yet, Metz said, “all the measures we’re doing are still getting beat by this virus.”

The Fight Over Vaccinating Birds

Perhaps the most contentious debate about bird flu in the poultry industry right now is whether to vaccinate flocks.

Given the mounting death toll for animals and the increasing risk to humans, there’s a growing push to vaccinate certain poultry against avian influenza, which countries like China, Egypt, and France are already doing.

In 2023, the World Organization for Animal Health urged nations to consider vaccination “as part of a broader disease prevention and control strategy.”

Swayne, the avian influenza expert and poultry veterinarian, works with WOAH and said most of his colleagues in the animal and public health world “see vaccination of poultry as a positive tool in controlling this panzootic in animals,” but also as a tool that reduces chances for human infection, and chances for additional mutations of the virus to become more human-adapted.

But vaccination could put poultry meat exporters (whose birds are genetically less susceptible to H5N1 than laying hens) at risk of losing billions of dollars in international trade deals. That’s because of concerns that vaccination, which lowers the severity of disease in poultry, could mask infections and bring the virus across borders, according to John Clifford, a former chief veterinary officer of the USDA. Clifford is currently an adviser to the USA Poultry and Egg Export Council.

“If we vaccinate, we not only lose $6 billion potentially in exports a year,” Clifford said. “If they shut us off, that product comes back on the U.S. market. Our economists looked at this and said we would lose $18 billion domestically.”

Clifford added that would also mean the loss of “over 200,000 agricultural jobs.”

Even if those trade rules changed to allow meat and eggs to be harvested from vaccinated birds, logistical hurdles remain.

“Vaccination possibly could be on the horizon in the future, but it’s not going to be tomorrow or the next day, next year, or whatever,” Clifford said.

Considering just one obstacle: No current HPAI vaccine is a perfect match for the current strain, according to the USDA. But if the virus evolves to be able to transmit efficiently from human to human, he said, “that would be a game changer for everybody, which would probably force vaccination.”

Last month, the USDA announced it would “pursue a stockpile that matches current outbreak strains” in poultry.

“While deploying a vaccine for poultry would be difficult in practice and may have trade implications, in addition to uncertainty about its effectiveness, USDA has continued to support research and development in avian vaccines,” the agency said.

At this point, Metz argued, the industry can’t afford not to try vaccination, which has helped eradicate diseases in poultry before.

“We’re desperate, and we need every possible tool,” she said. “And right now, we’re fighting this virus with at least one, if not two, arms tied behind our back. And the vaccine can be a huge hammer in our toolbox.”

But unless the federal government acts, that tool won’t be used.

Industry concerns aside, infectious diseases physician Bhadelia said there’s an urgent need to focus on reducing the risk to humans of getting infected in the first place. And that means reducing “chances of infections in animals that are around humans, which include cows and chickens. Which is why I think vaccination to me sounds like a great plan.”

The lesson “that we keep learning every single time is that if we’d acted earlier, it would have been a smaller problem,” she said.

This article is from a partnership that includes Michigan Public, NPR, and KFF Health News.

Subscribe to KFF Health News' free Morning Briefing.

This article first appeared on KFF Health News and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.

If you bring a baby into the Hurley Children’s Center clinic in downtown Flint, Michigan, Mona Hanna will find you. The pediatrician, who gained national prominence for helping uncover the city’s water crisis in 2015, strode across the waiting room in her white lab coat, eyes laser-focused on the chubby baby in the lap of an unsuspecting parent.

“Hi! I’m Dr. Mona!” she said warmly. “Any chance you guys live in Flint?” She learned the family is from neighboring Grand Blanc.

“That’s so sad!” Hanna said. “You should move to Flint! And have another baby! And you could be part of the Rx Kids program!” The parents chuckled politely. But the doctor was not kidding.

Billed as the first-ever citywide cash aid program for pregnant moms and babies, Rx Kids gives Flint residents $1,500 mid-pregnancy, and $500 each month for the baby’s first year. There are no strings attached. No income limits. And it’s universal; nearly every baby born since the program launched in January is enrolled.

Parents who bring their babies in for checkups at this clinic rattle off the ways the money has helped, from the cribs, diapers, clothes, and wipes they’ve bought to how it’s “kept them afloat” during maternity leave or provided crucial income when a spouse died.

But the true goal of Rx Kids goes far beyond Flint, as Hanna acknowledged, scooping up one of the Rx Kids babies in an exam room. “Do you think we should do this for babies everywhere? What do you think?” she asked, cooing. The baby gurgled happily, smiling. “That was an affirmative yes.”

Cash Payments as a Tool To Reduce Child Poverty

Many other countries, including Austria, Belgium, Canada, France, Germany, Ireland, Norway, Sweden, and the United Kingdom, already offer a child cash benefit. The U.S. essentially did, too, during the coronavirus pandemic: The 2021 expanded child tax credit gave low- and middle-income families (including those previously excluded because of insufficient income) hundreds of dollars per kid in direct, monthly payments for six months.

The child poverty rate fell to a historic low. But the expanded program expired at the end of 2021 and Congress did not renew it. The child poverty rate went back up.

For Luke Shaefer, director of the Poverty Solutions initiative at the University of Michigan’s Ford School of Public Policy and a longtime advocate of child cash benefits, it was “the most brutal day” of his career.

Soon after, he got an email from Hanna asking if he wanted to collaborate on the program that would become Rx Kids. The program’s goals go beyond cash aid for Michigan families: It is also aimed at getting donors, lawmakers, and voters excited about how child cash benefits could help their communities.

The list of the recently converted includes Republican state Sen. John Damoose, who has become an outspoken advocate for expanding Rx Kids. Referring to himself as “a pro-life person,” Damoose said, “I sure as heck better be concerned about making it easier for mothers to make the decision to have their children.” He said the Republican Party needs to get serious about supporting programs like Rx Kids. “We’ve been accused for years about being pro-birth, not pro-life. And I think that’s not without merit. We need to put our money where our mouth is and support these children and support their mothers.”

Already, what once seemed like a moon shot is gaining traction: Shaefer and Hanna say their communications with Vice President Kamala Harris’ presidential campaign helped shape Harris’ “baby bonus” proposal. President-elect Donald Trump’s campaign also supported expanding the child tax credit.

Meanwhile, Michigan has budgeted some $20 million in state Temporary Assistance for Needy Families cash to partially fund an expansion of Rx Kids to a short list of communities, if those areas can raise local matching funds. Those areas include rural communities like Michigan’s remote eastern Upper Peninsula, part of which is in Damoose’s district. “We want to make the tent as big as possible,” Hanna said.

But some Upper Peninsula health officials were initially wary. Each new Rx Kids community will need to raise millions of dollars in private donations to start and sustain the program in their community. “It could be a good thing,” Leann Espinoza, maternal-infant health program manager for the eastern Upper Peninsula, said in August. “But I’m not getting my hopes up. I know that sounds terrible.”

Upper Peninsula Families ‘Fall Through the Cracks’

In the wood-paneled rec room of the Clark Township Community Center, Espinoza broke the news to her team this summer: Rx Kids is not a program the eastern Upper Peninsula will be able to fund on its own.

It’s about “$3 million that we would need to raise,” she said, looking at three other LMAS District Health Department staff members.

Tonya Winberg, the public health nurse for Mackinac County, looked stunned. “It’s just, where does that $3 million come from?” Winberg asked. Other potential Rx Kids expansion sites, like Kalamazoo, have wealthy private foundations that can fund the program. The eastern Upper Peninsula does not.

“And how do we sustain it?” Espinoza added. “We hate to start programs, and then the funding is gone and we have to tell people, ‘It’s not here anymore; we can’t do it anymore.’”

The ruggedly beautiful and densely forested Upper Peninsula is used to feeling forgotten. There’s a running joke about how often it’s mislabeled as Canada or Wisconsin on maps. It has about a third of Michigan’s land mass, but just 3% of its residents. The sheer scale and sparse population mean options for food, housing, and child care are limited. Poverty rates are higher than the state average in much of Espinoza’s territory, and the region has some of the highest rates of newborns suffering from prebirth drug exposure in the state, according to the state health department.

At the community center, Espinoza and her colleagues start listing all the ways Rx Kids would be a lifesaver for families in the Upper Peninsula, many of whom have some income and some resources but “don’t make enough to make it,” Espinoza said. “The fall-through-the-cracks families. And those are the ones that I really, really, really think this program would benefit, especially up here.”

Espinoza’s next meeting was with one of those families. Jessica Kline and her 18-month-old daughter, Aurora, live in Munising, a tourist town on Lake Superior. “She’s got a big personality, and her hair is red, so she came with a warning label,” Kline said of her daughter, laughing.

Aurora is a tiny force, speeding around the family’s apartment, unfazed by the nasal tube that connects her to an oxygen machine. She was born early, at just 24 weeks gestation, weighing less than 2 pounds. No hospital in the Upper Peninsula was equipped to care for a preemie that young. So Aurora and her parents spent seven months at a hospital in Ann Arbor, five hours south of their home. “We didn’t have a reliable vehicle,” Kline said. “We didn’t have a source of income.” Hospital social services provided $19 a day for food, which Kline would save up to buy supplies for Aurora.

When they finally got Aurora home to the Upper Peninsula, their house had been vandalized, the copper pipes stripped out. Espinoza’s team helped them find housing, and drove them to get groceries. Every day is a series of small battles, from finding the medical supplies Aurora needs to figuring out how to get to a revolving door of specialists hundreds of miles away. Still, Aurora’s dad has a job in town. They’ve got family nearby. They’re making it work, Kline said.

But having a program like Rx Kids could have made a huge difference in her daughter’s first year. “Five hundred dollars a month would have been enough to actually be able to get ourselves on our feet,” she said.

After Espinoza left Kline’s apartment, she drove south to her office in Manistique. It was late. Everyone else had gone home. Espinoza sat at her desk, trying to be pragmatic. She knows Rx Kids would not magically solve the lack of child care and housing and all the other things you need to break the cycle of poverty. But it would fix Kline’s car. It would help.

There will undoubtedly be critics, Espinoza said — people who believe parents will just use this money to buy drugs. “‘What did they do to earn it?’” she imagined them saying. “‘You’re just giving them free money, and they didn’t do anything to get it?’ Because they don’t understand. They don’t understand the barriers. They don’t understand that sometimes the choice isn’t always yours. Like, I’ve talked to moms who desperately want to go to work, and they want to support their family, but there’s no child care. And so they have no other choice.”

Espinoza recently got an update from Rx Kids’ Hanna: Largely because of private foundations outside the Upper Peninsula, the program has raised enough money to fund a “perinatal” version of Rx Kids for five counties in the eastern Upper Peninsula. The perinatal program would provide the $1,500 payment mid-pregnancy, plus $500 a month for a baby’s first three months, rather than the full year. “But the goal really is the full program, so we are still raising money,” Hanna said via email.

“I think it’s fantastic if we even just get the perinatal version to start,” Espinoza said. “That’s more than we had before.”

This article is from a partnership that includes Michigan Public, NPR, and KFF Health News.

Subscribe to KFF Health News' free Morning Briefing.

This article first appeared on KFF Health News and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.